


I Want You To Want Me

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Smut, Improvised Sex Toys, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Marcky, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 00:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2793338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicky feels neglected, and Mark improvises a solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want You To Want Me

Nicky snuggled into Mark’s side, his fingers trailing up and down his lover’s chest blindly, his eyes closed against the coloured light from the TV that flickered over them in the dark. A soft kiss pressed to his temple, and he smiled.

“Love you.” He whispered, feeling gentle fingers stroke his arm.

“Love you too.” Mark replied distractedly. Nicky nuzzled his ear, trying to get more of a reaction. But all he got was a mumbled “don’t, Nix”. Nicky pouted.

“Why not?”

“I’m trying to watch this.” Was the reply, and Nicky was dislodged from the embrace by Mark leaning forward to pick a can of beer off the table. He sipped it, put it back down, and then sat back against the couch, making no move to put his arm around Nicky again.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

Nicky sighed, realising that Mark was paying absolutely no attention to him. He rested his chin on the other lad’s shoulder again and then, smiling wickedly, began to nibble teasingly at the soft curve where neck met shoulder. Mark wriggled a little.

“Not now.” He said, not pushing Nicky away but his body language hardly welcoming. Nicky refused to stop though. He was being ignored, had been getting this treatment more and more lately, and he was sick of it. If Mark wasn’t interested any more than what the hell was the point?

So Nicky dipped his head lower, his tongue dragging up Mark’s collar bone, fingers beginning to drift toward the younger man’s groin…

“Nicky. Stop it.” Mark muttered, actually pushing Nicky away this time. “I want to watch this.”

Nicky didn’t know what made him do it, but he suddenly saw red. Fuck Mark if he was gonna treat Nicky this way – it was insulting, as well as unfair. Mark didn’t want him any more, fair enough, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. Or without breaking something.

So he picked up Mark’s beer can and lobbed it at the wall.

Well, that got Mark’s attention at least. Suddenly there was movement, as Mark jerked to his feet, his face a picture of shock. Nicky’s hands clenched into fists, a little condensation dripping between the fingers of his throwing-hand.

“What the fuck did you do that for?!” Mark cried, and Nicky stepped away, glaring.

“Nice to see I’ve got your fucking attention!” Nicky spat back, his voice rising in volume with every word. “Nice to see it takes your fucking beer to be spilt before you even notice me in the room!”

“What the hell are you on about?” Mark exclaimed, his eyes darting between the dripping beer stain on the wall and Nicky’s infuriated face.

“Have you not noticed the fact that we haven’t had sex in a week?!” Nicky shrieked. “Your TV programs are obviously so much more interesting, so tell me… if I’m boring you, why don’t you just tell me to get the fuck out?!” Tears pricked his eyes but he blinked them back. He was not going to cry. “Am I not worth being spontaneous over?! Am I not worth even the slightest bit of attention?!” He felt the tears begin to spill over, and spun away before Mark’s wide, shocked eyes could see them. “I’m going to sleep in the spare room.” He announced, cursing the tremor that filled his voice. “Don’t you dare come in.” And with that, he stalked off, refusing to look back.

 

*

 

“Nicky?”

Nicky kept his eyes closed, but felt the rectangle of light emanating from the open doorway burn his lids, and Mark’s voice rasp against his skin, stinging him.

“Nix? I don’t… I’m sorry.”

Nicky kept silent, tugging the blanket over his head. No longer feigning sleep but telling Mark very determinedly that he Did Not Want To Talk To Him. Footsteps padded on carpet, getting closer, and he flinched away from the hand that touched his shoulder.

“Nick… come on. Please.”

“Fuck off!” Nicky cried, twisting and sitting up straight in bed, his entire body in a blaze of anger and hurt. Mark snatched his hand back, staggering back against the wall. “Do you not get a single fucking hint?”

“But…”

“No! Leave me the hell alone!” He lay back down, yanking the blankets over his head. There was silence, and then he heard footsteps padding over the carpet again, moving away this time. There was a pause.

“I’m… I’m in our room. If you want me or…” Mark’s voice trailed off, and Nicky heard a soft sigh. The door clicked shut. The darkness closed around him again.

 

*

 

Nicky arrived in the kitchen to silence the next morning. Though their bedroom door was open he’d resisted the urge to look in on the sleeping lump that was undoubtedly there. They usually shut their door when they slept, so it was strange to see it open. A tiny part of him was glad that Mark had kept it open – in hope, no doubt – but the rest of him was still consumed by such hurt and desperation that it was an insignificant gesture.

Because Mark didn’t want him.

Last night was tiny, in the grand scheme of things, but this had been going on for a month. Probably more. Mark had just seemed… less interested. As if Nicky had become a permanent fixture in the house, like a coat-rack or a toaster. He felt like he was just there, useful when Mark needed him, but hardly irreplaceable. Mark didn’t want to shag, he didn’t want to just… play, for fuck’s sakes! Because Nicky wasn’t fun anymore, was he?

No! He bit back the self-pitying thoughts. He was angry at Mark, not at himself. It was Mark that had ignored him, Mark that hadn’t bothered. Mark was hardly a god, was he? But that didn’t mean Nicky didn’t worship him! Mark should be fucking grateful!

He dropped his head down to rest against the countertop, sighing. Fuck.

He heard feet on the stairs and turned away, not wanting to Mark to see the tears that had sprung to his eyes. He opened the drawer next to him, pulling out a frying pan, trying to look nonchalant. Yeah, he was just making breakfast. Not mourning over a relationship that had apparently dropped dead.

“Nicky?”

Nicky didn’t reply. Instead he shut the drawer and opened the one above, rummaging for a spatula amongst the utensils. He had almost closed his hand around it when he was slammed very suddenly against the counter, strong hands encircling his hips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He yelped angrily. A hard, penetrating sensation closed on his nape. Teeth. They released him, and hard breath blasted over his ear. Panting. A hard length jabbing into his left buttock.

“Don’t. Move.” A very familiar voice said, and Mark’s cock slid to the right, lining up against Nicky’s crack. Teeth closed around his ear and yanked almost painfully, the hands on his hips pressing him harder against the counter. Then he was suddenly spun around against Mark’s naked body, his groin suddenly and unavoidably throbbing as the hard shape of Mark’s length pressed against him, an unrelenting mouth sucking at his throat. He went from angrily flaccid to rock hard in about three seconds, though the rage hardly dissipated.

“Do you think you can just…” Nicky protested, before his words were muffled by a cruel kiss, his mouth stinging against the pressure. A hand wormed into his boxer shorts, closing tightly around his flesh and staying there. Not stroking, not teasing, just squeezing tighter and tighter until it was almost painful, until Nicky couldn’t catch breath against that relentless grip. Just as he thought he was going mad, he regained at least a little of his sense and reached up, trying to push Mark away. But Mark’s other hand reached up too, grabbing it and using the grip to spin Nicky around again, his cock released and then crushed hard against the edge of the counter.

Nicky moaned, then moaned a little louder when his free hand was grabbed, both of them pressed against the counter, restraining him. Mark’s hard cock pressed to his arse again, their flesh separated only by the thin layer of Nicky’s boxers.

“How’s this for spontaneous?” Mark growled.

“Don’t you dare think this makes it better.” Nicky spat back, hating himself for the slight thrust of his hips in response to the familiar hard length prodding his arse and sending his boxers askew, Mark’s wetness soaking the backs of his thighs.

“Not a bad place to start though.” Mark replied, his hand releasing Nicky’s and grabbing the top of his angry lover’s boxers, yanking them down around his thighs. “I need to fuck you, Nicky. You gonna stop me?”

Nicky hesitated, then shook his head. This wasn’t weakness, dammit, this was just need. Pure and simple. He needed. And Mark… Mark needed. Oh hell yes.

“You need me.” Nicky echoed. Mark’s teeth scraped over his shoulder, then a tongue soothed the graze, making Nicky groan. Making Mark groan.

“I always fucking need you.” Mark whispered.

Nicky nodded, not ready to forgive yet, but grudgingly willing to allow this… this thing Mark was doing. Whatever it was. This fucking hot thing.

“Make me come.” Nicky said through gritted teeth. “Then we talk. After.”

“Yes…” Mark hissed, and a hot, wet tongue licked across Nicky’s shoulders, so hard it was brutal. Then there was a slight pause, and Mark laughed softly.

“What?” Nicky groaned, pressing back against Mark’s cock.

That tongue licked down his back, then back up again, making Nicky arch as it tortured his spine, missing the spot that craved attention. Hands gripped his hips, and his cock rubbed against the counter again, driving him mad. Not enough pressure. Not enough.

“Wanna play?” Mark whispered, his voice harsh and needy. Nicky groaned, then gasped as he heard the click of a tube opening near his ear. There was a short pause, Nicky felt it drag out, his blood fizzing in his ears, then he garbled a scream as a lubricated finger drove deep, penetrating him.

“Hell yes.” Nicky gasped, collapsing forward across the counter, his breathing harsh and desperate. Mark bent with him, his teeth nipping and scraping at Nicky’s neck, across his shoulders. Nicky tried to arch into it but couldn’t, Mark’s weight holding him down firmly. He groaned, unable to stand it. “More…” He moaned.

Mark didn’t waste any time. Nicky cried out again as a second finger shoved into him, his voice raw and hoarse. Mark’s breath blasted down over his shoulders, his cock twitching against Nicky’s bare arse like a promise.

“More.” Nicky demanded, not caring that his arse was burning from the lack of proper preparation. The third finger made him scream almost as much as the first one, targeting his prostate and making stars burst in his vision as his cock rubbed agonisingly against the edge of counter.

“You ready?” Mark panted, and Nicky nodded desperately, pushing back on Mark’s cock, needing it. “Good.” He said. “Cos now we play.”

“What?” Nicky gasped, glancing back when a hand moved from his hip and reached into the drawer he’d left open from his aborted attempt at ignoring Mark. Then he realised what Mark had spotted, what had caused the request for play. Oh Jesus.

Mark grabbed the stainless steel length from the drawer, his fingers drawing slowly and torturously out of Nicky’s body so he could have both hands free. The tube of lube clicked open again, and Nicky watched in fascination as it was spread all over the metallic surface, the rolling pin glistening under the light.

Nicky groaned as it disappeared from his vision again, the curved end glinting. It was long and smooth and about an inch-and-a-half thick, the two ends curved and rounded, like… like…

Oh god.

He cried out as it pushed past his entrance, Mark’s breath still coming hard over his skin, free hand holding one of Nicky’s hands to the counter still. It was unbelievably solid, making his skin tingle and his nerves burn, thrusting into him, inflexible and straight. Like a cock but different. So different. A soft kiss pressed to his throat, so tender.

“Take it.” Mark breathed. “So hot. That’s it… your tight arse taking it in…”

“God… Marky…” Nicky gasped, turning his head and searching out a deep kiss, Mark’s tongue taking over and pushing into his mouth, stroking him and sending him higher, his brain torn between lust and a sudden rush of love. “Don’t stop. Don’t… oh!” He gasped harshly as it suddenly jolted forward, spearing him on its penetrating length, the girth not unbearable but enough to make the pressure inside him build even more, his cock no longer rubbing against that counter, not when a tight grip settled around it, squeezing. Not moving, again, just squeezing. So tight. So… so good… so…

“Wanna fuck you with it.” Mark whispered, making Nicky’s body thrust back onto the rolling pin completely of its own volition, his brain having short-circuited. “Let me.” He demanded, making Nicky’s cock leap.

“Yes… want…” He jerked back again, the intense violation turning his legs to jelly. He whimpered, pausing, then cried out as Mark pushed it forward, impaling him deeper. His fists drummed helplessly on the counter, the feeling too much to bear. So stretched… so deep… so good…

Mark fucked him. Hard. In and out. Back and forth. Pressing and tilting. Finding all the places that drove Nicky mad. As though he’d never forgotten. As though they did this every night. Needing him. God yes, needing him. Whispering how much he needed Nicky. The hand on his cock tightening slowly. Nicky craving release.

“Please.” Nicky croaked as the pressure increased to the point of madness. “I need…”

“Me too.” Mark replied, and Nicky cried out when the rolling pin was whisked from him, leaving him suddenly bereft and empty. Then Mark was driving home, filling him in a way that was so much more personal and intimate. His fists clenched uselessly on the counter as Mark pulled out, then snapped open when Mark thrust deep, Nicky’s mouth opening in a gasping cry as the pressure on his cock increased suddenly, painfully, and hot cum burst over his stomach, coating the counter. A hand clamped over his mouth and he bit down on it to channel the crazed agony blazing over his skin, drawing blood from Mark’s palm, feeling a second hot burst and a hoarse cry, Mark’s own teeth drawing blood from the back of his neck, burning.

Nicky lay, collapsed over the counter, for what felt an eternity, feeling hands gently stroke him, Mark’s reassuring weight draped over his back. Hard gasps blasting over his throat. He hitched a shoulder and Mark pulled away slightly. He forced himself to turn around, smiling as he was gathered in a gentle embrace, feeling Mark’s body tremble against his own shaking form.

“I really am sorry.” Mark whispered, and Nicky nodded.

“This doesn’t fix it. You know that.”

“I know.” Mark whispered. “But Christ I… I need you. I know sometimes I take you for granted but… last night when you… I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise how much.”

“I’m not a toaster.” Nicky mumbled, and Mark laughed.

“No, you’re a Nicky.” Lips caressed his forehead. “I really do love you. Honest to god. Last night was torture. You have no idea how much I missed you.”

“I’ve been missing you all week.” Nicky admitted.

“And like an eejit, you didn’t tell me until you were hurting enough to throw beer at the wall.” Mark pecked his forehead. “Stubborn git.”

“I was angling for the hot sex.” Nicky joked, trying to divert Mark’s attention from his blush.

“Was it worth it, then? Just for the hot sex.”

“No.” Nicky whispered. “I’d rather you than amazing sex anyday. Though the amazing sex was a bit of a bonus.”

“It was a bit.” Mark laughed, cuddling Nicky tighter. “You want a shower?”

“Love one.” Nicky groaned, pushing Mark away a little so he could stretch against the stiffness filling his limbs. “But can we have a bath instead? Together?”

“Of course we can.” Mark smiled, that fond little quirk of the lips that Nicky had especially missed. “And after that we can watch telly.” He chuckled at the slap Nicky aimed at his chest. “Aw, come on?”

“Well…” Nicky tapped his lips, pretending to think. “…only if I can distract you.”

Mark slung an arm around his shoulders, laughing. “I’d insist, I think.”


End file.
